


Uncertain Paradise

by QueenStrata (yodepalma)



Series: The Eden Trilogy [3]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Overuse of italics, Pre-Canon, They're Both Mildly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/QueenStrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley, finally himself again, is forced into a confrontation with Aziraphale about their long gone, but never forgotten, past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncertain Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> And so it ends. Finally. I have really got to learn to keep better track of time.
> 
> Old fic being reposted for posterity and yadda yadda yadda I should really just stop saying this, shouldn't I?

_Uncertain Paradise_

"Yes! I'm me again!"

Aziraphale smiled to himself as he filled two cups with steaming tea. He was, to be perfectly honest with himself, relieved to hear that Crowley was an actual demon again, and not only because taking care of the demon-turned-human had become quite tedious for the angel. Aziraphale had also been thinking lately that, after nearly a year of having absolutely no demonic forces to fight against, life was also rather boring. It would be good to do something properly angelic again. He would, however, miss Crowley's constant presence in his life.

Not that he was about to tell anyone of that little fact.

"Did you _hear_ me, angel?" Crowley asked, bounding excitedly out of the bedroom. Aziraphale suppressed a giggle at the childish enthusiasm. "I'm _me_ again! My powers! My eyes! My _wings_! Oh how I missed these _wings_! Hey, why don't we go out flying? Wouldn't it be nice to fly?"

"That's a bit of a ridiculous suggestion, dear boy," Aziraphale replied in as neutral a voice he could manage—the thought of flying was a very tempting one. "You're a proper demon again. We have to return to being proper _enemies_. We can't be seen flying about the countryside together."

Crowley's cheerful energy immediately dissipated. "Is that what you want, then?"

"What I want is of no consequence," Aziraphale returned, very determinedly staring at the cups of tea. "I can't disobey Him again. I'd already be in enough trouble if they found out I'd taken care of you for the past year instead of killed you as I should have." 

"They won't find out," Crowley scoffed, waving the concern off. "Have they noticed anything so far? What're the odds of them discovering us _now_?"

"You make it sound as if we're engaging in some sort of illicit sexual affair," Aziraphale grumbled. 

"Well, we _could_ be, if you prefer," Crowley purred, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale's waist and putting his chin on the other's shoulder. 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale yelped. "How many times must I ask you not to _do_ that?" 

"As many times as I do it," Crowley returned with a cheeky grin. "Now come on, angel. Take a break. Think about it: the wind under your wings, hair blowing back as you soar through the sky. How long has it been since you've flown just because you _felt_ like it, eh?" 

"Too long," the angel whispered painfully. 

"That's what I thought. What's one day out of six thousand years? I'm sure nobody could possibly notice a measly twenty four hours." 

"You're trying to tempt me," Aziraphale said gruffly, shaking his head. 

"And it's working, isn't it?" Crowley asked, cautiously pressing himself even close to Aziraphale's back. Silently, he also thought that the angel was doing his own bit of tempting—even if it was accidental. "You won't get in any trouble, I know it. Just a few hours and everything's back to normal." 

"Very _well_ ," Aziraphale sighed, shrugging Crowley off his back and turning around. "But after this I need you to--"

"What's wrong?" Crowley asked, concerned at the angel cutting himself off so suddenly. 

"Your eyes..." Aziraphale muttered, staring intently at Crowley's face. 

_"Aziraphale, isn't it?" a demon asked, eyes full of curiosity._

"What about them?" Crowley asked, confused. 

_"I'll give you Paradise!" the same demon snarled, eyes narrowed in feigned anger, before warm lips pressed against the angel's in an action that was new to both beings, and not entirely uncomfortable._

"You didn't think those blue ones were _real_ , did you?" Crowley continued with a snicker. 

_"It was Paradise for_ me _!" the demon cried. The anger was real this time—and so was the pain._

"No..." Aziraphale shook his head. "You're _him_! That demon from the Garden! You're the one who _kissed_ me!" 

"Oh, fuck," Crowley whispered. "Look, angel, I can explain--"

" _Explain_?" Aziraphale nearly screamed. "You want to _explain_ why you pushed me against the gate and refused to let go? I think I can figure things out for myself, _thank you_!"

"It wasn't what you think it was!" Crowley protested angrily. "I wouldn't have tried to make you Fall, even back then!" 

"Then what _was_ it?" 

"I was just _curious_ ," Crowley snarled. "Adam and Eve seemed to enjoy it fine, even before the apple. I wanted to know what, exactly, was so wonderful about something that looked so disgusting." 

"And did you find out?" Aziraphale snarled back. 

"I told you before, didn't I?" 

_"It was Paradise for me!"_ the angel's mind supplied helpfully. 

Just like all those years before, Aziraphale found himself unable to think of a reply to the demon's startling proclamation. This time he turned around and leaned heavily on his table, trying to figure out what he felt at Crowley's words and actions. He thought vaguely that he owed the demon an answer. 

"That's the closest to Paradise I'll ever be again, Aziraphale," Crowley murmured as gently as he could. "And the closest to Paradise you've been in a very long while, I'm willing to wager." 

"There are no demons in Paradise," Aziraphale muttered, falling back on his old standby. 

"Maybe in yours, there is," Crowley replied. "Or maybe not. But I really don't want to give up on this, not yet." He spun Aziraphale around, and pressed him against the table. "What do you want?" 

"What I want doesn--"

"Yes it does," the demon insisted, and firmly pressed his lips back against the angel's, happily regaining the feeling of Paradise that he had so sorely missed. 

And this time, Aziraphale couldn't force himself to fight back. 


End file.
